This is from a few years ago.
When You first flipped the light switch on the blob
to give form to the shapeless void of Earth,
its waters, You sat down to do Your job,
bent over the desk and one day spoke the birth
of its first eve and morning without sun.
How long You labored to speak “firmament”
or tell the land to rise and streams to run—
through rumbling words or singing to invent
trees, sun and moon and stars to rule the hours.
Your time, Your days – what ages for a God
eternal? Did you speed up to use Your powers
to make bird, beast, and man? Did you applaud
more happily, say, “It is very good,”
then throw an office party in the wood?